


moments in time.

by dojimasqueen



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Oneshot, i've missed it, it's been awhile since i've written proper shikatema fic, there's smut in here if you squint hard enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23641165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dojimasqueen/pseuds/dojimasqueen
Summary: Five pivotal moments in Shikamaru's relationship with Temari, from their first date to the birth of their son.
Relationships: Nara Shikamaru & Temari, Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	moments in time.

His knuckles drum against the wooden door of her hotel room, five times in a rhythmic manner.

From the pocket of his trousers, Shikamaru pulls out his cellphone and opens its camera app. He stares back at himself on the digital screen, a red tinge adorning his cheeks. He sighs and runs a hand over his hair, adding some final touches to his appearance. At the push of a button, the phone returns to its slumber and is placed back in his pocket. He swallows the lump in his throat. Though he was seeing one of his closest friends, he was doing so in a different manner, and that caused the Head of the Nara Clan’s hands to shake.

He hears the doorknob jiggle as it’s turned, and Shikamaru freezes. The lump in his throat returns, his palms begin to sweat, and his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He bites his tongue, desperate to feel something other than the anxiety building in the pit of his stomach.

The door hinges squeak—evidence of repetitive use—and out emerges Suna no Temari.

Her attire—her usual lilac blouse and violet skirt, sans the breastplate—clings to her curves in the greatest of ways. She shifts from leg-to-leg, causing her skirt to ride ever so slightly up her thigh. Her cheeks are rosy, teal eyes glittering in anticipation. It is here that Shikamaru focuses his attention; her eyes, like the ocean, sweep him away. Miles and miles out, he finds himself stranded, immersed in the kunoichi’s undeniable beauty. Given the chance, he would remain lost in the sea that is her eyes, bright and sparkling like the sun reflecting off of the waves.

“You look…” She has rendered him utterly speechless. He coughs into his fist, clearing his throat, and swallows. His throat has gone dry and the urge to tug at his collar grows stronger.

With a small tweak of her neck, Temari flips her bangs out of her eyes. Her rosy coloring intensifies, a side-effect of his sorry attempt at complimenting her. She drops his gaze, embarrassment—he believes—making it difficult to look at him, and he finally finds the confidence to finish his sentence.

“…amazing.”

A calloused hand lifts to brush the hair from her eyes. Temari meets the gaze of her date, smiling ear-to-ear. Her lips stretch across her face, teeth bared, and Shikamaru’s heart flutters in his chest. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

His compliments contain an unforeseen power. With only three words (and a brief pause), Shikamaru has earned a joyous _grin_ from the woman he’s dubbed the cruelest kunoichi. And while he’s witnessed her smiles in the past, never have they been on _this_ grand of a scale.

A rub of his neck, a lick of his lips, and Shikamaru grins back. He places this trick in his back-pocket, ready for use during their date, and, hopefully, later down the road.

* * *

The room smells of sweat, musk, and latex.

Shikamaru’s heart beats rapidly in his chest, pulse thrumming behind his eardrums. Temari’s pants fill the silence, eyes glued on the ceiling of her boyfriend’s bedroom. She’s unmoving, skin glistening with sweat, doing her absolute _best_ to pick up the pieces of herself left scattered around the room at his hand. She’s been in a trance-like state since reaching her peak—something penetration alone couldn’t accomplish. At least, not their first time.

Shikamaru hovers over her, palms on the mattress at either side of her head to prevent himself from collapsing. His own orgasm had him seeing stars, throaty moans reverberating against his walls. He’d nearly collapsed on top of her once it had finished, but the young man knew better than to throw in the towel. While a disappointing number of women complained that they could not reach orgasm through sex, Shikamaru had made it his goal to leave his girlfriend satisfied after their first sexual encounter. After tossing the condom and gaining her permission, Shikamaru had reached his right hand down between her thighs, fingers struggling to find the sensitive bundle of nerves that would make her toes curl. Upon its discovery, a _whimper_ had escaped the kunoichi’s lips, alerting Shikamaru that he had struck gold. His confidence grew with every brush of his fingertips, pleasure rippling through Temari’s body. Her moans grew in frequency and intensity, much like his had just moments prior. His name left her lips in strangled moan, body stiffening beneath him as her orgasm spread throughout her body.

Never had he seen something as beautiful as this.

He had brought her to the highest peak of pleasure imaginable with only his fingertips. It was exhilarating, a turn-on, possibly the greatest experience of his life to bring his girlfriend to orgasm. To watch the muscles in her face contort as she attempted to compose herself had been incredibly tantalizing. Every moan that had escaped her had sent an electric shock down Shikamaru’s spine.

She basks in the afterglow, something he had denied himself the privilege of in order to satisfy her needs. A lone bead of sweat trickles down her forehead, moistening a speck of Shikamaru’s skin when he leans down to kiss the tip of her nose. Abruptly, exhaustion hits him like one of Kiba’s reckless tackles on the training grounds. He collapses on top of Temari, face nuzzled in the crook of her neck. Her scent—raw, sweaty, and so utterly Temari—intoxicates him. He could stay here for _hours_.

He feels fingertips ghost down his back, hears a guttural noise at his ear. “Welcome back,” he chuckles, lips puckered at her pulse point. “I lost you for a bit.”

“I never knew it would be this good…” A satisfied hum vibrates within her throat. He can detect the smile in her voice. He’s done a fantastic job.

“It’ll get _better_.” His goal is to bring her to orgasm through penetration, and for that to become reality, they’ll need much practice. For now, however, Shikamaru pulls out of her neck to kiss her lips.

* * *

He fiddles with the ring box in the pocket of his trousers, swept away in the sea that is his girlfriend’s eyes. His mouth has gone dry, heart threatening to burst from his chest. He squints as the setting sun reflects off of the water of Naka River, obscuring his vision. He’s nervous, and why shouldn’t he be? Proposing marriage was a great step to take in a relationship, and though Shikamaru has no doubt that she will say yes, he can’t manage to cease the shaking of his hands as he prepares to declare to the world that Temari is his one and only.

“I love being with you,” he declares with a smile that comes so naturally whenever he speaks to her. “These past few months have been so incredible, but, when you leave, I always feel like a piece of me is missing.” He removes his hand from his pocket as not to draw suspicion, though something tells him that his soon-to-be fiancée knows what’s coming. The content smile she wears fades, and she locks her gaze upon him, hanging on to every word that leaves his mouth. She’s not surprised, no. He knows her better than anyone, and he knows that the look she wears is one of eagerness. Temari wants nothing more than to say yes, and though Shikamaru wants nothing more than to hear that one word, he knows he only gets one attempt at proposing, and he would rather not rush it.

He breathes in through his nose as out through his mouth before continuing. “I know we’ve only been together for six months, but I feel like we’ve been together for years. Maybe it’s because we’ve been friends for so long, but loving you is as natural for me as breathing.”

There’s a sparkle in her teal eyes, a silent me, too, to his last declaration. He can feel his eyes becoming wet.

“Being with you is so amazing. Every day I’m with you is the best day of me life, and every time you leave is the worst. I... I don’t want either of us to keep going through that. I want to go to sleep and wake up with you by my side every day for the rest of my life. I want you to take my name and run my clan with me. I want to cook you your favorite meals whenever you want them and watch stupid movies on TV while we cuddle on the couch. I want to run missions with you and work alongside of you and make love to you.”

The tears welling in his eyes fall free and spill down his cheeks. His tongue darts out to moisten his dry lips. It’s difficult to put the love he has for her into words, but he knows he’s doing well—there’s tears welling in her eyes, too, preventing her from blinking. He knows Temari isn’t one to cry, let alone to do so in public, but the emotions are getting to them. And as he falls to one knee before her, she sinks down with him, grasping his wrists. The tears begin to fall as he fetched the box from his pocket.

“Most importantly, I love you, and I want you to be my wife.” He opens the box, allowing the sun to shine upon the diamond ring within. It’s simple—a platinum band with a one-and-a-half carat round diamond in the middle. The sun reflects off of the diamond to reveal a hint of pink coloring to the stone. “Suna no Temari, will you marry me?”

He isn’t prepared for what happens next.

Her hands drop his wrists and grab his face. Her lips crash against his, kissing him desperately, passionately, as though they aren’t in public. He reciprocates with his own urgency, ignoring the saltiness to her lips from her tears. He feels the tip of her tongue glide across his bottom lip and his mouth opens to accommodate. It’s a kiss reserved for private areas—his house, mainly, where she can climb in his lap and grind her hips as she feels him harden—but emotions run high. His right hand leaves it’s position on the box’s lid to tangle in the hair at the back of her neck. He pulls her towards him, deepening the kiss. A sound of pleasure rumbles in the back of Temari’s throat, alerting Shikamaru that it’s time to cut this short.

The kiss comes to an end, and their foreheads rest against one another. Neither can help the delirious smiles that spread across their cheeks. Elation hangs in the air, wafting off of them like a strong cologne. Temari’s hands fall from Shikamaru’s face to take the ring box from his grasp. Delicately, she plucks the ring from its resting place and examines it from their current position. Her eyes sparkle, a mixture of the sun’s rays and the glint of the diamond. Her mouth moves, mouthing an array of words, yet nothing is heard. Instead, she slides the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. The smile on her face widens into a grin.

* * *

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

With shaky hands, he slips a platinum band onto her finger, bare for the first time in a little over a year. He can feel several pairs of eyes upon him, but all that matters is the woman standing before him. She had held back her tears so well throughout the ceremony, but they haven’t stopped falling since the sharing of his vows. Thankfully, he is in the same boat, though his tears began falling well before hers; the sight of her in her wedding gown, walking down the aisle on her way to become his wife had hit him like a ton of bricks. After a year of Suna and Konoha village elders squabbling over a date that worked for them rather than the couple in question, Shikamaru and Temari were to turn the page in their book of life and begin writing the newest chapter together. Gone were the days of lying alone in bed, speaking on the phone until sleep eventually pried them away; the near-constant texting and selfie exchange during work hours; the late-night FaceTime calls once they’d gotten a moment to themselves... Never again would they need to count down the days until the next visit—after so long, Temari was here to stay.

Tears stain her cheeks, a soft smile spread across her face. In her eyes, Shikamaru observed the emotions swirling within. Lust and desire dance with love and adoration; a sense of belonging tangles itself with a sprout of peace. But, most importantly, elation shines as bright as her smile. He is aware of how difficult it is to contain the whirlwind within her, as he is dealing with a similar influx in the pit of his stomach and the center of his chest. He wants to kiss her, wants to pin her against a wall and crawl beneath the skirt of her dress, wants to cradle her in his arms and call her his wife... But there will be plenty of time to do those things after the reception.

“Temari,” the voice of the Rokudaime begins, “as you place the ring on Shikamaru’s hand, repeat after me.”

And so, she does, uttering a similar proclamation to what he gave just moments ago. “Shikamaru,” she begins, voice composed despite her tears. She’s stronger than he is in more ways than one. “I offer my vow to you in the form of this ring, so that my word and my love with always be with you, close to your heart.” She pauses to slide a matching platinum band onto his finger. It is here that he makes note of her shaking hands. “With this ring—” her eyes meet his and electricity sparks in the air. The world around them fades—it’s only Shikamaru and Temari in this moment, declaring their love to the world. Neither can contain the grin on their face. “—I thee wed.”

“I know you two have been waiting for this for quite some time, so…” Behind his mask, Kakashi grins, his smile reaching his eyes. “It is with great pleasure that I pronounce you husband and wife. I’m sure you know what to do, now.”

Calloused hands, as gentle as ever, touch his skin—her right at the back of his neck, fingers tangling themselves in hairs too short to be tied up; her left on his cheek, the metal of her wedding ring cooling his skin. His own hands, smooth and experienced, grab for her waist. It’s an instinctive reaction as he lifts her off of her feet—a giggle escapes Temari at the gesture. The crowd rejoices, expressing their delight in soft voices. They fade from his world, however; his lips touch hers for the first time as her husband, and Temari kisses back for the first time as his wife.

* * *

Through heavy eyes, he watches his son closely. He offers him his index finger—large in comparison to the newborn in his grasp. The infant opens his mouth and takes his father’s fingertip between his gums, sucking for a moment before rejecting it, entirely. Newborn babies don’t express their emotions through their facial features—it isn’t until a month of age, he recalls from the various books and articles he’s lost himself in, that he will be easy to read—but something tells Shikamaru that his son is displeased. He frowns in a way only a father can and cradles his child against his chest. “I know, baby boy,” he coos, deep voice going up an octave. “If I could feed you, I would, but you have to wait on Mommy. She’s very tired from bringing you into the world.”

Feet away, the mother in question sleeps in her hospital bed, hair a tangled mess, still clothed in her hospital gown. The fear of dying, just as her mother had after birthing Gaara, had plagued her for the final few months of pregnancy. Combined with the physical stress of giving birth, Temari had dozed off shortly after attempting to feed their son for the first time. He hadn’t latched—not initially, anyway—adding to the stress the new mother carried on her shoulders. It was normal, the nurses assured her. He would latch once the fuss died down, once he grew accustomed to his surroundings and those handling him. But still, Temari worried, even though Shikamaru did his best to counter those worries. Eventually, she had fallen asleep, waking only when the nurses encouraged her to give breastfeeding another try. Through its entirety, Shikamaru grit his teeth and observed, holding his tongue. His wife needed her rest, but their son needed to eat. The entire family was in a catch-twenty-two.

Though unadvised, Shikamaru remains awake, running on fumes at this point. Sixteen hours his wife has slept, and twenty-eight he has been awake. He’s refused every offering to sleep, even denying his mother the opportunity to look after her newborn grandson while he rested. He would not leave his wife’s side, nor would he give up their son so easily. He would look after them both. It was his duty as a husband, as a father…

The Nara Clan Head yawns. His son, with eyes _so much_ like his mother’s, looks up at him in wonder. “That’s a startling sound for someone so small, isn’t it, baby?”

Brown eyes—red and puffy—move to focus on the woman in the hospital bed. She turns on her side, tousled and tangled hair veiling her face. Shikamaru, quick on his feet, abandons his chair to stand at his wife’s bedside. Long fingers gently brush the hair from her face, revealing an exhausted smile tugging at her lips. He mirrors the expression and leans down to press his lips to hers in a tender kiss.

“Let me see him,” she says thickly. She lies back on her back, wincing at the pain radiating from between her legs. She extends her arms out, eager to hold their son, and clears her throat. Shikamaru places the newborn in his mother’s grasp and she smiles widely, greeting him in a higher octave. “Baby boy! Mommy’s awake, now!” The newborn, already used to Temari’s voice from his time in the womb, turns his head to gaze at her. Temari softly pokes at her son’s palm, triggering his grasp reflex. As his tiny fingers wrap around her index, she gazes at him with the utmost love. “Can you get me a glass of water, babe?” she asks. “My throat is dry.”

A nod and a sound of agreement, and Shikamaru turns to the table at her bedside. He begins pouring water from the supplied pitcher into a paper cup. “Baby and I missed you while you were asleep,” he informs her as he hands her the cup. She takes a large sip and hands it back, quickly patting the empty portion of the mattress beside her. Shikamaru raises an eyebrow in question.

“Come lay with your family.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. It feels like an _eternity_ since he’s laid on a mattress, a sheet and comforter warming his body, his arm slung around his wife, drawing her close to his body. While this may not be the same as back home, Shikamaru walks to the other side and climbs in. He lies on his side, arm slung delicately around his wife’s waist as she adjusts to accommodate him. He yawns for a second time and fights the urge to close his eyes, the unconventional comfort of the hospital bed and the warmth of his wife’s body enough to lull him into a deep slumber. “He’s still officially Baby Boy Nara, by the way,” Shikamaru mumbles into the fabric of Temari’s hospital gown. “Maybe we should just keep it that way. Or, maybe just stick with Shika-something. Both have strangely nice rings to them.”

Temari’s eyelids, though heavy with exhaustion, narrow as she shoots her husband a glare in warning. He’s failed at coming up with a name for their son throughout the entirety of her pregnancy, perhaps contributing to the failure of his ill-timed joke. He smiles sheepishly.

“I’m kidding, babe, I’m kidding!” He buries his face in the crook of her neck, pressing his lips to her skin. “I actually _did_ think of a name while you slept.”

“Did you?” she questions, attention having returned to the newborn on her chest. He stirs, wiggling his tiny arms as if learning how to use them. “And what did you come up with?”

“Well,” Shikamaru begins, pulling away from her skin to rest his cheek against his wife’s shoulder. He stifles a yawn, exhaustion getting the better of him. “I thought a lot while you slept, and I remembered when you said that you wanted to begin a new ninja world with me. Essentially, our son is the beginning of that new ninja world, and _dai_ means generation, so...” He places his hand against their son’s back, long fingers splayed and knuckles bent as he gently moves the tips of his fingers back and forth. “Shikadai.”

“Shikadai,” Temari tests the name for herself. Her eyes never leave the newborn, almost as if watching for any sign of a reaction to his name. “Do you like that name, baby boy? Do you like Shikadai?”

The newborn turns his head towards Shikamaru. Their eyes lock for a split second before the former’s eyes fill with tears. His mouth opens wide, and he begins to sob. Shikamaru, taken aback, jerks away from the comfort of his wife’s shoulder. He sits up and frowns. “Oh. I guess he didn’t like it.”

Temari sighs, though Shikamaru is unable to conclude if it is due to him or their wailing son. “No, it just seems like he’s inherited his father’s _impeccable_ timing.” She frees her breast from her gown and takes the newborn in her arms. “Okay, okay. Be gentle, baby boy. My nipples are still sore from the last few times.”

The crying ceases as Temari’s breast comes into the newborn’s field of vision. He latches, Temari winces, and he begins sucking. She sighs.

“So, Shikadai, huh?” she muses, tearing Shikamaru’s attention away from their feeding child. A soft smile adorns her face, teal eyes shining as she gazes at her husband. It’s been months seen he’s seen her look this calm, this relaxed, this _happy_... She focuses her attention back on their son and her smile widens, eyes filling with pride. “Your daddy says you’re the beginning of a new ninja world, Shikadai. And that’s true, isn’t it? You’ll grow up big and strong and become a skilled shinobi with your daddy’s kage line. That sounds exciting, doesn’t it?”

“So, you like it, then?” The grin on his face is uncontainable. Between her effortless usage of the name and the future she sees for their son, Shikamaru struggles to contain his excitement.

“I love it,” she quickly glances at him, smile as bright as the sun. “It’s perfect. It’s _perfect_ , isn’t it, Shikadai?”

Shikamaru returns to rest against his wife’s shoulder, arm moving to assist in supporting Shikadai’s weight as he feeds. His eyelids grow heavier with every passing second, and, eventually, he succumbs to exhaustion.


End file.
